Locker Room Scandal
by doe-eyed llama
Summary: "Are those bruises and hickeys on your body?" Someone says loudly, and Percy freezes. He didn't. No, he didn't. / Percy's first swim practice isn't going exactly as planned, and a certain blonde is to blame. High School AU. Quarterback!Jason and swimmer!Percy. One-shot. Rated T for language and sexual situations.


**Disclaimer: Don't own PJO! And this is dedicated to halestorm999, I guess. This is written for her, anyway. I hope you're happy, Haley.**

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><p><em>Alright<em>, Percy thinks to himself as he walks into the locker room, _finally time for swim practice_. Percy Jackson can honestly say that he's missed being in a sport—he missed the practices and the swim meets and the feeling of water rushing around him as he raced from start to finish. He might have to deal with some... interesting (read: douchey) guys on his team, but at the end of the day, he had the better time and work ethic. And more fun. Having fun is important.

Making the team was possibly one of the best things that could ever have happened to him, but what's happening right now could probably make Percy's list of Top Ten Things to Never Happen Again, and it'd just might take first place.

A hand clasps his back as he makes his way across the row. "Nice to see you, Jackson. Gonna help us get to Nationals this year?"

"You know it," Percy replies with a smile, meandering through half-naked guys. He kinda hates having his locker at the very end of the row, but it's such a trivial thing, it shouldn't really have bothered him. Percy isn't that self-conscious, but at least he wasn't in the middle where everyone could see him. He has his own little corner, and he's cool with it.

He sets his backpack down with a thud, and reaches for the lock. _7-01-18_, he reminds himself. Okay, so maybe it's corny that his combination is Jason's birthday and age out of all things, but he needed something that he could remember.

Listening to the constant locker room chatter ("Did you hear the new Mythomagic game came out?" "She had such huge tits, dude, I fucking swear. They were like _this_ big."), Percy places a hand underneath his shirt and swiftly takes it off. His fingers move toward the button of his jeans and—

"Holy shit, Percy."

"Yeah?" he replies distractedly, fumbling with his zipper.

"_Percy_," he hears a different voice say, "oh my god. What happened to you?"

He mutters something incoherent like, "My stupid zipper is stuck, give me a minute." and sticks his tongue out.

"Are you cheating on Grace, or something?" Now that catches his attention.

His head snaps up, a horrified expression on his face. "I'm sorry, but _what_? Did you just say what I think you just said?" That comes out a lot louder than it's supposed to, and suddenly, everyone in his row is looking at him with wide eyes and their jaws dropped. Even some of the guys around the corner are peering at him.

"Are those _bruises_ and _hickeys_ on your body?" Someone says loudly, and Percy freezes. He didn't. No, he _didn't_. He couldn't have. He... not before the first day of practice.

"Uh," Percy stammers. "N-no?" He chuckles a bit nervously. This is a dream, all a dream. And he won't look down at his chest because he _knows_ there aren't any blue-black marks. Nuh-uh. No way.

"Dude," a boy on the track team he knows as Travs says, awed. "We swear we won't tell, but seriously, who's _bitch_ were you last night?"

"Uh," Percy repeats. He's not going to look at anyone, no no no. That'd be social suicide. His cheeks, his poor poor cheeks and the tips of his ears are burning, goddamnit. _Focus on changing, Jackson. Focus._ But he can't, because he still can't get his zipper loose and he's making a bigger fool of himself than he already is.

"Really, you should tell us," Travis continues and smirks, "because we _know_ for a fact it wasn't Grace."

"I don't know, Trav." _Oh, God,_ Percy thinks to himself and slightly panics. _It's his brother_. "Those bruises on his hips look suspiciously like handprints. Especially the one on the right. Don't those look like the same size as our dear quarterback?"

Percy can't help but to look down this time, really look. His jeans hang low on hips along with his boxers thanks to his fumbling, and there they are, finger-like marks stretching across his hips. They're real. Last night was real. This is really happening right now.

Suddenly, Percy has images running through his mind, like a movie: hot hands running over his body, red lips brushing against his collarbones, and a tongue tracing the shell of his ear.

He remembers Jason whispering in a husky voice, "Let me take care of you." as he dipped a hand underneath his boxers, the other clasped tightly against his right side, pinning him against the wall. He remembers moaning shamelessly into the air as he rutted against his boyfriend, Jason's teeth nipping harshly at his neck while his tongue dragged itself up and down, mimicking the motions of his hand. He remembers arching his back and curling his toes and wrapping his arms right around Jason's back, nails digging and dragging into his shoulders.

But, most of all, he remembers shaking and feverish kisses and both of them slowly falling to the floor after completion.

"Watch out, he might sprout a boner anytime now thinking about the Mystery Guy," Travis jokes, and Connor gives him a high-five.

Percy sighs and rubs his neck, wincing slightly. "It was Jason."

"It was Jason," Travis mocks. "No, seriously, bro. Who?"

Percy gives him a look and sort of shrugs.

"... Grace? Really?"

"You can ask him, if you want," Percy blurts, and_ holy shit what the fuck, me?_ Of course, that's when the football team entered the locker room. Of course they had to have a lengthy conversation with Coach Ares that just had to end now. Of course. The world hates Percy, he's sure of it.

"It'd be my honor," Travis smiles wide and slings an arm around his brother's shoulders. Together, they shout, "JASON GRACE WE REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE IN LOCKER ROW 3, LOCKER 18B."

Percy slams his head against his locker and groans. Everyone's done changing, they're all looking at his waiting for an explanation, and he _still_ hasn't gotten his jeans off. Somehow, Jason shows up behind him (_He took the shortcut,_ Percy grumbles. _Why didn't I think of that?_) with his shirt off, folded in his hand. Figures he'd be the type to actually fold his clothing.

Jason raises an eyebrow. "You wanted me?"

"Well," Travis trails off. "Not sure about us, but we're pretty sure Percy wanted you last night." The whole locker room oohs immaturely because it's full of hormonal, teenage guys and really, that comeback is probably as good as a "that's what she said" joke.

"What do you..." Jason's gaze shifts toward Percy and his mouth drops open.

Percy waves awkwardly and tries not to look at his eyes. "Hey."

"I..." Suddenly Jason's hands are on his hips and his mouth is way too close to his ear for comfort. "Did I do that to you?" he whispers, and Percy tries not to shudder at how warm his breath is. Surely, this has to count for inappropriate locker room behavior. But, in all honesty, Jason's just being caring and worrying about his boyfriend while Percy's the one with dirty thoughts running through his mind. Oh, how the tables have turned.

"Yeah," Percy just says, trying to ignore Jason's chest against his back. Curse football players and their abs.

"Oh. I'm, uh, sorry about that?" Jason's hands are off his hips and are now running through his blonde hair nervously. Of course he's sorry about it. Such a gentleman.

"Don't be—well, you know," Percy motions to the people behind him with a head nod. "They thought someone else screwed me instead of you."

Jason blinks. "What?"

"I don't know," Percy shrugs. "Something about you not being man enough." Those weren't Travis or Connor's exact words, but that's what they were insinuating—to Percy at least.

"Not man enough," Jason repeats and Percy nods slowly. "Would you excuse me for a second?" Jason leaves without a reply on Percy's part, and Percy jumps when he hears a large _bang_ and a two groans.

Jason's back at his side as quickly as he had left. "I'm back. Just knocked some sense into them, it's cool. They're alright, mostly."

Percy smiles and chuckles a bit. "Over protective boyfriend, much?"

"You know how love it," Jason teases, and Percy can't feel everyone's gaze on him anymore. Now, they're more focused on laughing at the Stoll's pain. Typical boys.

Percy brings his attention back to his zipper and says, "Go change, Quarterback. Don't you—"

"You're wearing those jeans?" Jason interrupts, frowning. "I thought you said you couldn't get the zipper undone?"

"When did I say that?" Percy replies, bewildered.

Jason moves right in front of him, situates Percy against the wall, and Percy's getting a serious case of deja vu. The blonde looks to his left and right. Most of the guys were leaving the locker room, while a select few lingered near the doors.

Perfect.

Jason looks back at Percy and smirks, placing a hand next to his head and shifting his body so, ultimately, Percy couldn't be seen. Percy grows wary at his boyfriend's suspicious actions.

"Ja—_Jason_," he hisses, because his hand is back down his pants again, in front of his boxers this time, but still brushing against it ever so slightly. "_What are you doing?_" Now this, this is definitely inappropriate locker room behavior.

"I'm unzipping it for you," he whispers, and, fuck, he's using that voice again. "Remember? It can only be undone from the inside-out." And then, his zipper's _finally_ down. And the hand that was in his pants is now on the other side of his head, and Percy's boxed in and can't help but to hyperventilate slightly when Jason's nose barely touches his and Jason's lips are only centimeters away from his. "You don't remember much from last night, do you?"

Percy's breath hitches as Jason's forehead hits his.

"Get changed, Percy," he breathes, and then he's gone. Percy slides down against the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor, and rests his chin on his knees. Somehow, he has to explain to Coach Don that he had to use a swim shirt for a few days, and that the bruises on his body were from a gang fight, or something.

Percy groans. He's screwed. So, so screwed.

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><p><strong>AN: Crying because I told myself I'd never actually write for JasonxPercy despite it being my OTP. Crying because I was working on a punk!Percy and Annabeth thing but then halestorm999 and I started talking about AUs and got sidetracked. Crying because this was supposed to a drabble and I don't even know how the Stolls showed up, they just <em>happened<em>, okay?**

**Broken Zippers and Jercy.**

**~Taffeh**


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